A/N : Not mine. Many thanks to the author for her work.
Updated because I had written Natsuo as the Sacrifice the first time I posted it. Which, obviously, he isn't.
Chapter 1 : Calling
"Ritsuka, I find you oddly composed."
"Hm?" he grunted, still hunched over the book he was reading.
"It's been almost a week since you decided to get Soubi back. We've got no words back and you're simply doing homework like nothing happened. I found it peculiar."
"Well, I don't know what else there is to do. Since we have to wait for feedback, I might as well make good use of this time."
"But, really, homework?"
"Right now, I couldn't care less about it. But not doing it would raise questions and that would be bothersome."
Conversation lapsed back into silence, Ritsuka finishing his homework while the Zero team lazed by.
"Yougi, Natsuo," he said suddenly and drew their attention. "You can't call anyone else, can you? Whatever the bond, you can only call each other, right?"
"Why would we call someone else?"
"I mean, I can only call my fighter. Loveless Fighter. Isn't it ?" The boys nodded. "In other words, I shouldn't be able to call Soubi, whatever the bond we have formed. Only Seimei can."
"Yes."
"Alright. So — how exactly do you do it?" he asked very seriously, his attention focused on his friends.
"I barely think about it now but at first, I had to concentrate on Natsuo, to picture him in my mind. His face, his scent, his voice, his essence. What he feels like for me. Then I think 'come'."
"Like an order?"
"Of course. You have to mean it, to impose it. Don't think about the other. Focus on your need. Your fighter will hear you if your voice is strong."
"The pull is attractive, Ritsuka. You shouldn't fear for your Fighter because there is something very pleasurable about it."
"But I don't want to control someone, Natsuo. I don't want to have someone surrender everything for me."
"Then your Fighter will be very sad and disappointed. Each and every one of us lives for his Sacrifice. The bond is sacred. I don't mind relinquishing control to Youji. As long as we are together, I don't care. What's good for him is good for me. I don't need anyone else."
"But— but that makes you a slave !"
"No. I trust Youji to be fair and treat me with respect."
"And what would happen if he didn't?"
"I would obey. But I wouldn't like him very much then, would I?" he replied with a smirk.
"Ritsuka, you worry too much about this. When you meet your Fighter the first time, it's like love at first sight. You won't be mean. You will want to be together, not to hurt or harm."
"What about Seimei and Soubi?"
"It's different. Soubi is a blank fighter. He has no name, no calling. He's a spare." Ritsuka blinked.
"A spare? You mean no-one wants him?"
"No. I mean he is destined for no-one."
"Somehow, that sounds even worse," he said dejectedly. "Why is he Beloved then?"
"Because your brother wrote his name on him."
"But Seimei has a true Fighter."
"Well, now he has 2 Fighters."
"Is that why he's mean to Soubi? Because he's blank ?"
"He's mean to everyone." Natsuo said.
"Seimei's a psycho. Soubi's just a possession, a weapon for him. Effective but despicable treatment of one's Fighter."
"Don't you have to love each other? You said it was like love at first sight."
"Well, yes. Especially for the Fighter. But love is not required. Only obedience is necessary for the team to work it out. And practice."
"I see." He mulled over their words for a moment then spoke again. "When you call, can you only order to come or can you use it to communicate ?"
Both frowned and contemplated the implication. They looked at each other, a smirk lazily lightning their faces before Natsuo left Soubi's place.
"Experimenting, eh?" Ritsuka asked. He watched Youji as he called his Fighter. He tensed after a few minutes then broke into a triumphant laugh. "I guess you can talk to each other. I am so glad you're on my side, now."
He took his time. He spent the whole trip home to reflect on Zero's input.
Come in, avoid Mother, undress, get in bed.
He looked out through the window and let his thoughts wander towards Soubi. The first time they met. Soubi knocking on his window. The blood on his balcony. The feel of his arms around him when they fought. His kisses. His scars. Ritsuka's eyelids fluttered closed. His warm hand enveloping his smaller one. His voice. His smell. He concentrated on his own constricted chest, the void in himself. He recalled the feeling in Goura when Soubi had answered him. The surge, the violent power thrust when he had wanted him so badly by his side to protect, help, fight. He pushed back the anger, the pity, the blame, the sadness and let his need and desire to have Soubi here overwhelm him.
"Soubi," he called with all his might. "Survive. I will get you back."
Far away, a cigarette stilled in mid-air. A slow smile graced Soubi's usually impassive face.
"Yes, Ritsuka."
